


Sparks and Wires

by kassywritescrap (freshiewrites), SansyFresh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Android AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:57:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22867891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshiewrites/pseuds/kassywritescrap, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyFresh/pseuds/SansyFresh
Summary: Honey is designated Android Model XV-194, reporting to a Mr. Edge Aster.ThisEdgedoesn't really seem to want to follow protocol very well.
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale)
Comments: 49
Kudos: 87





	1. West Cherry Street

**Author's Note:**

> something i wrote a while back on tumblr but never posted here! i want to do more for it, so have the first two chapters ^^

The sway of the moving containment truck turning down well paved roads made it difficult to stay completely still, even with his stabilizers working at what his systems told him was 98% capacity. Really that didn’t seem completely honest. Still, he stood as tall as he was able, watching through the thick glass at the trees and houses that passed. His empty eyes scanned over the different people, some humans, some like him. Well, not exactly like him, but the distinctive clothing each of them wore was sign enough of their…model.

Kids ran and played through fences and flowers. A few humans jogged along the well worn sidewalks, one or two of them followed by their companions. There was even one human male walking what looked to be a middle aged dotson.

He loved dotsons. Dogs really, any type or model of dog there was available. They were always so cute and loving and accepting, even when the slightly warmed metal that made up his hands ran through their fur. He hadn’t received many dog kisses in his life, but each and every one were stored in a special place in his memory banks.

Maybe his new master would have a dog? It would be, perhaps, too much to hope for. He was here to serve, protect, and do whatever his master required of him.

If he could ignore the way the mantra made him want to roll his eyelights he’d be in a better place.

The bus turned down a new road, this one a little less well paved, though the neighborhood didn’t seem any less kept. The houses did seem a little farther apart, which allowed for a bit more privacy. Soon the truck stopped, outside a fairly large home that seemed well maintained, the bushes outside groomed and the lawn clipped at a fair level. The truck’s computer opened the back door, the cord plugged to the outlet in his neck popping loose with a hiss. He reached up, pulling it out himself and letting it dangle against the wall before moving down the walk. Taking a moment to assess the jump down, he hopped out, one hand holding his opposite arm as he watched the truck drive away with a light groan.

Giving the address painted on the mailbox a thorough look, he checked his new master’s data. It was a match. This would be his new home. Squeezing his arm, he looked down the street for a moment, trying really to gather himself before finally walking forward. The stone steps to the yard were uneven, cracked. The grass was a withered green, though it still looked healthy enough even as it crackled under his company made shoes. The front door needed a new paint job, the old, weathered crimson peeling in unappealing ways.

Taking an unneeded breath, he raised his hand, knocking twice on the door. There was silence, then a faint bump of something hitting the floor somewhere in the house. There were steps he could hear faintly all the way from upstairs to the room this door lead to, but just as he was about to try the doorbell the door swung open, revealing a tall skeleton in tight leather pants and a black tank top. They were all edges, a nasty scar running down their right socket. They stared at him for a long moment, long enough that he realized he’d just been standing there, staring back. Clearing his throat, he straightened his back.

“I am the Android model XV-194 sent to the address 674 West Cherry Street, Cheline CA for one Mr. Edge?” Stars he hoped he had given all the information as easily understandable as he was able.

The skeleton continued staring with piercing red eyelights. One hand came up to rub at a spot on their chin, a fleck of what seemed to be acrylic based paint now catching his attention. “I’m Edge. I suppose you’re the android I ordered.”

He smiled amicably. “That is indeed what my papers say, sir.”

Edge rolled his eyes. “None of that “sir” shit. Get in here, lock the door behind you.” With that he turned and headed back into the house, leaving the door wide open. He stared after his new owner for a moment, then carefully stepped inside, firmly closing and locking the door behind him. Searching the floor, he found a pair of boots and a pair of worn tennis shoes, both laid against the wall. Slipping out of his own footwear, he found himself grateful socks were a part of the required clothing mandated for all androids.

Moving carefully and following what noise he was able to parse, he found his master in what looked to be an…art room. There were shelves of canvases and paint, as well as several large tubs of what seemed to be molding clay. Edge was setting what seemed to be a finished canvas on the floor against one of the empty walls, the far window casting light over the muted colors. He appreciated it for a moment. He wasn’t entirely certain what it was exactly supposed to be, but it was certainly good.

Edge looked up, snorting as he caught him staring. “Just a hobby. Real work’s not for you to deal with.” It was said with a finality, almost a warning. He made a note to never ask what it was his master did for a living. Stepping around a large, open container of red paint, he straightened.

“Is there anything you’d like me to do? Clean up a little perhaps? Make a light snack? It’s almost four in the evening, I could make dinner soon.”

Edge’s stare was…unnerving. “Is that what they told you you were here for?”

He blinked. “Urm. Yes? That is what all androids are typically used for, according to the 75th Mandate by the Corpus Company.”

Edge sighed, then, strangely, sat hard into his stool. Rubbing his hands over his face, he mumbled to himself, going through some papers on the table in front of him. From what he could tell, his master seemed to be cleaning up in an effort to stave off some sort of intense emotion. Anger, perhaps? Maybe rage? He hoped he wouldn’t be returned, he’d just gotten here. Finally, Edge stood, arms crossing over his chest. “You are not here to do menial labor. I do all the cooking and cleaning myself and I will not be usurped.”

He opened his mouth, only to be cut off.

“I will also not have you cleaning and messing with things in _here_ , no matter what. I don’t like my space defiled.”

Now he was raising his hand, mouth still open.

“And lastly, I am not and never will be some sort of master over you, I don’t care what shit they stuffed in your heads over in wherever it is you come from.”

Well, that he could have an answer for. “I come from the Sacramento Plant and Housing Unit.”

Edge stared at the ceiling for a moment before letting a long, hard sigh loose. “Well. I still don’t care.” Moving towards him, Edge’s sockets narrowed. “You, my friend, are here as a companion. Capiche?”

Looking through his logged dictionary revealed no results for what capiche might mean. Still, he nodded, and Edge seemed pleased.

“Good. I’m going to go make a quiche, and you are going to come watch me make it.” With that he left the room, leaving him behind. His head whirred audibly as he tried to make sense of the past ten minutes, but nothing he could think of seemed likely. Still, an order was an order. Hurrying out the room, he hoped there wouldn’t be anymore confusing things in store, he wasn’t sure he could take much more.


	2. My...name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnd the next chapter lol
> 
> enjoy!

Rebooting…charge at 100% capacity. Visual function at 99% capacity. Auditory function at 98% capacity. Booting up…

He blinked, slouching a little out of the stock straight position he’d gone into for sleep mode the night before. From his internal clock it was 8 in the morning precisely, light streaming through the windows at his side. Shaking off what little dust had settled, he glanced around the room before moving to the door. It opened on silent hinges, a testament to how well Edge took care of the house. Listening for a moment, he detected movement in the forefront, downstairs. Padding down the carpeted hall, he turned at the corner and descended the steps, one at a time.

There seemed to be someone in the living room…and someone in the kitchen. Strange, he thought Edge lived alone. Moving carefully, he peeked around the corner at the bottom of the stairs, eyelights processing the layout of the room. Everything appeared to be in order…but there was a much shorter, much heavier skeleton sitting nestled on the couch.

They two had sharp fangs, one a gold alloy replacement, the cracking around the eye revealing that this skeleton was older than Edge by at least 5 years. Red eyelights glared at the television, the skeleton grumbling lowly about something or other. He couldn’t hear what it was he was saying.

“Honey!”

He jumped, eyelights tearing away from the strange other skeleton to Edge, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “What about it?”

That earned him a loud snort of laughter from the couch, the skeleton now staring at him with those piercing eyelights. It made him…uncomfortable.

Edge rolled his eyes. “No, that’s what I decided to name you. Honey. You know, like the condiment, the sweet stuff you stir in tea and add to a peanut butter sandwich.”

He raised his hand. “I am aware of what honey is.”

Edge grinned. “Good. That’s your name now.” With that he turned back into the kitchen, throwing a final “That shithead is my brother!” over his shoulder.

Honey turned, looking to find that “the brother” was now back to watching whatever was on the television, as if bored. It was obvious he was not, by the way his eyelights kept flicking from the television to Honey, then to the kitchen door. A quick search of his database revealed a name.

“Red. Edge’s older brother, works at Grillby’s Bar and Eatery in South Cheline.”

The skeleton, Red, glared at him. “Yeah, what’s it to ya.”

Honey smiled. “It is a delight to meet you.”

Red huffed. “Sure, whateva. Boss I’m out! Keep a knife handy!” With that he stood, shoved his feet into the ratty tennis shoes by the door, and with a snap of his fingers was gone. Honey registered faint traces of void magic. Nothing good. Deciding to add it to his list of things never to ask about, he moved to the kitchen. Edge stood at the counter, mincing what looked and smelled to be fresh green onion.

“He was staying the night, some jackass was scoping his apartment. He’s supposed to stay with Grillby after this.” Edge said, all while carefully mincing the onion. There also seemed to be paprika and small cloves of garlic set out, perhaps already added?

“Why Honey?” He had to ask, it wasn’t as if any of his previous master’s had given him a name (and wasn’t that just the point? That Edge wasn’t like his other masters? Wasn’t really a master at all?). Edge glanced back at him and snorted.

“We need to get you some new clothes, those look like you live in a dystopian society of nuns.”

It took a few searches through his dictionary to really understand what he meant. Also, Edge appeared to be avoiding the subject. Another thing to never ask? Or perhaps ask later. He’d make a note of it.

“I am supposed to wear this clothing to signify my model and make. It is a mandate.”

Edge sighed, scooping the minced onion into his hand with the knife and tossing it into the skillet. “I really don’t give a shit about Corpus Mandate, Honey. I want to take you out as a friend, not as my own personal robot.” Shifting his shoulders, he frowned. “If anyone’ll get in trouble for you not looking like one, it’ll be me.”

Again with the companion comment. It made his servers whir in confusion. “But-”

Edge spun around, wielding the knife with a menacing glare. “No buts. We are going to get you some good, comfortable clothing, and you will like it.”

Honey stared at the knife, then at Edge. “Okay.”

Edge nodded, satisfied, then returned to cooking. Honey, at a loss (not for the first time), watched him as he made what looked to be two omelettes. Honey thought about mentioning the fact that his taste capacity wasn’t very high, but decided that it would be better not to.

Soon the omelettes were finished, Edge plating the two up with an efficiency that was to be admired, setting both on the table with a glass of orange juice as a chaser. Honey sat at one of the placed sets, watched as Edge sat as well, taking the napkin he was offered. He waited until Edge took his first bite to take his own, chewing thoughtfully.

His taste receptors were and always had been on the lower scale of efficient. But, if he really concentrated, he could taste the different spices and seasoning that Edge had used, as well as the crisp, fluffy nature of the egg. Edge was watching him, waiting for his reaction. Swallowing the bite, he paused, glanced up, and swiftly took another. Edge smiled, satisfied, and Honey congratulated himself on a job well done.


	3. Breakfast, what could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo next chapter time!! Honey is such a confused boy guys, he really needs some help lol
> 
> enjoy :D

It ended up being a few days later that Honey finally booted up before Edge had a chance, his servers displeased that he so far had very little chance to do things for his mas- for Edge like he was supposed to. So he set his internal alarm for a solid 3 in the morning, stepping carefully around a sleeping Red-filled couch to tinker around in the kitchen. He’d always wanted to learn how to cook; his internal servers had information about cooking, about food and such, but the intricacies of cooking were lost to him.

Since this was his first attempt, he thought making toast might be a decent enough start to the day. He’d have a few hours to practice, and when Edge woke at precisely 5 a.m. Honey would have a plate of golden, buttery toast waiting for him.

It took nearly 20 tries to not burn the toast, and another 15 to get the butter melted perfectly. In the end he’d taken advantageous use of the microwave to get that perfect melted look, the taste nothing more than ash to himself, but he hoped that it tasted as good as it looked.

He didn’t notice the mess he’d left behind until he turned around, finding Edge staring at his kitchen with a twitching socket. Honey felt something like fear deep in his code, his hands quick and unusually deft as he lifted the plate with both hands and presented it to Edge with the brightest smile he could muster. 

“I made breakfast! For you!” he tried, studiously ignoring the various piles of burnt bread and puddles of melted butter that covered the counters, stove, toaster, microwave… stars even the ceiling. Edge stared at the plate of toast for a long moment, before taking it gingerly between his fingers, setting it on the table and taking a seat, all the while avoiding looking at the rest of the room. Honey noted that he continued to twitch, even as he picked up a single piece of toast, tearing off a piece and taking a soft bite. 

He chewed thoughtfully, eyelights flaring a little in what Honey could only assume was pride as he grinned, sharp and lethal up at him.

“This is very good. How many tries did it take you?” he asked, and Honey had to count the pieces of bread to get an exact number.

“At least 30!” Honey answered, proud of his work today. Edge shook his head, seemingly amused, and he stood, gesturing for Honey to follow him.

“Alright, then lets see just how long it takes us to clean this mess up, huh?”

Honey nodded, ignoring the blush of sheepishness that lit up his face as Edge laughed. 

In the end it took about twice as long to clean up the mess as it had to make it, which confused Honey to the logistics of the whole thing, but honestly he was just happy to spend time with Edge that wasn’t so confusing. Cleaning, he knew how to do. Being told orders, that was what he was made for.

Of course Edge had to ruin it by making him sit and watch some cooking show on the TV when he announced it was time for lunch. These were such confusing times.


	4. Doggos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay next chapter :D and a little obvious foreshadowing!! see if you can find it XD
> 
> enjoy :D

The day that Edge finally decided to take Honey with him on one of his excursions to the big city they were on the outskirts of, it was a breezy 41 degrees outside. Edge had insisted he wear a jacket and a little knit cap, one that looked handmade; little honey yellow bones were crocheted into the edges. He wore it with only a small complaint: he wasn’t entirely sure what the point was when he couldn’t actually feel changes in temperature. Edge had just glared at him until he put it on, though, so he was quick to do so, only barely noticing the smug look in Edge’s eyes.

“Where are we going today?” Honey asked as they began the walk down to the bus station. He tried to ignore the discomfort he felt at walking around without his mandated clothing on, worried that he or even Edge would get in trouble. Still, no one even glanced their way as they came up to the bus stop, waiting only a few minutes before the bus drove up with a heave and a sigh. Honey thought he might have caught a little bit of a hateful glance from the younger male that was driving the bus, but still no one said anything as both he and Edge took a seat towards the back of the bus.

“You might as well get comfortable.” Edge said passively, as the bus started up again. “It’s going to be a bit before we get there.”

Honey wanted to ask again what it was that they were doing, where they were going, but he didn’t want to make Edge angry and so said nothing. He instead people watched out the window, exclaiming quietly when he saw a little dog pair being walked down the sidewalk. He watched as they stopped at the next bus stop, the pair of dogs climbing up and into the bus and playfully strutting down the aisle, Honey watching with rapt attention as the owner of the dogs, a younger woman it seemed, sat and pulled the pair closer to their seat. 

Edge made a small noise, Honey glancing back to him, guilty, only to see Edge looking at the dogs as well. 

“What kind of pups are those?” he asked, and Honey answered instantly.

“A brindle Pitbull Terrier mix and a liver Miniature Poodle, Edge.” 

Edge gave him a glance, but seemed to be hiding a smile. Before Honey could ask why, Edge spoke again.

“Do you have a favorite kind of dog?”

Honey stared at him for a moment, trying to decide if he should try to keep it a secret since androids weren’t supposed to have “favorite things”, but… 

“Dotsons. They have long, round bodies and are very wiggly.” He stared at the dogs on the bus for a few seconds before he continued. “I have only met one, but it gave me several kisses.”

Edge nodded, then went back to reading his ebook, leaving Honey to watch the dogs on the bus and wish that the owner would let him pet them.


	5. Pins and Measuring Tape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo time to update this for the end of the year!!
> 
> i hope you all enjoy :D

Honey wasn’t entirely sure what the goal of this entire excursion was, but he did know that Edge was growing more and more agitate as the day went on, and that likely wasn’t it. He’d taken Honey to several boutiques and clothing shops, each time explaining to the main worker at hand that he wanted a set of clothing. Honey had watched, baffled as Edge had then gestured to him each and every time, only for the worker to appear baffled, then angry. 

They’d then been shuffled out less than gently from nearly every place they’d visited, all except the small café on the corner that Edge had insisted they stop at.

Honey didn’t mind; he wasn’t made to mind things, but even if he was, it was a quaint little restaurant. The place was small, homey, inviting, and many other synonyms that came to mind when Honey first saw the inside of it. There were little red booths, perfect for sitting and watching people outside the large windows, and a counter with several pastel red swivel seats. The walls were brick, the floors a checkered laminate, and Honey felt as though it could use a good dusting, but it seemed nice enough.

Edge led him straight to the counter to order their food, Honey biting what served as his tongue in order to not remind Edge that he wasn’t really able to taste all that well yet. He would eat what he was given, and he’d absorb the magic content into his matrix. 

He wasn’t sure that Edge really knew how it worked, but in the long run Honey didn’t mind all that much.

The meal was brought out to them speedy quick, Honey having been keeping the time by counting the amount of flowers in the vases spread around the room. Edge took the tray of lovingly wrapped food, carrying it to the farthest table in the farthest corner of the room. Honey followed easily, sitting across from Edge and waiting patiently for the food he’d been ordered. 

It turned out to be plain chicken strips, with a basket of fries that looked as though they’d been sitting out a while. Honey gave them a dubious poke, but Edge gently slapped his hand.

“Don’t worry about it. This is to get you used to eating.”

Honey gave him a dubious look, but Edge had already started in on his smothered chicken sandwich, lost to the world behind a curtain of lettuce and pickles. Honey would have snorted, had his internal speakers been capable of making the sound, but he turned to his own food, unconvinced but willing to try it.

It didn’t take long for the meal to be finished, Honey having polished off his fries long before Edge had finished his chicken sandwich, but in the end they were both finished up within half an hour. Edge then took another half hour to slowly drink his cola, Honey having tried his own glass but quickly pushed it away, the sheer amount of bubbles messing with his servos on an unprecedented scale. 

Once Edge was finished though, he took all of the trash, ignoring Honey standing to help and throwing it all in the nearest receptacle before placing the tray on top and grabbing Honey’s hand, leading him outside with a wave to the owners. 

Honey only realized once they’d gotten on a different bus that Edge had likely taken him to what was known as an “old haunt”. His internal dictionary seemed to match it up likely enough, but Honey was sure there had to have been a better choice of words. Either way, he glanced at Edge, who was back to reading his ebook. 

“Was that a regular eatery of yours?” Ha, that was the word he wanted. Edge gave him a look, curious and seemingly tired.

“Yeah. My brother and I go there every other weekend, but this weekend I was taking you.”

Edge then turned back to his tablet, leaving Honey to wonder if he was a nuisance or not.

Red was Edge’s brother, Honey’s master. Therefore Honey should have been somewhat on the scale of acceptable in the home, but Red didn’t seem like he enjoyed Honey’s company very much. It was strange, how much Red preferred to not be in the same room as him, taking actual shortcuts out of the room whenever Honey had to be in it. 

It baffled him, if not made him a little morose. His job was to please others, in the home and outside of it, and he wasn’t doing his job to the best of his ability if Red had decided he wasn’t worth being around.

Honey would have to do a bit of soul searching, despite his lack of one. He’d get to the bottom of Red’s dislike, and he’d figure out how to fix the problem.

Finally the bus came to a final stop, Edge looking up before gently grabbing Honey’s hand and leading him out of the bus and onto the sidewalk, Honey ignoring the warmth that Edge’s hand brought to his own. There before them was a clothing store, seemingly on the high end of the money spectrum. Honey wondered what had brought them here; Edge didn’t seem to be all that wealthy, that he knew of.

Edge just led him inside, regrettably letting go of his hand in order to clasp the one of a monster inside, a short skunk monster who’s name was apparently Louie. 

“How goes it Edge my boy, you here for another wardrobe, yes yes?” Louie said, accent crisp. Honey was having a hard time placing it, distracted as Edge explained once again what he’d explained to all the other shops, before finally gesturing in that same small way to Honey himself.

Louie gave Honey one solid look over then turned to Edge, every bit serious. “I can do it, there will be no problems.”

Edge seemed relieved, Honey picking up on the changes in vibration of magic around him as happy, even semi-joyful. You wouldn’t know it from the grim expression on his face, but Honey was already being ushered to the back, pins and measuring tapes surrounding him in no time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you enjoyed, consider leaving a comment!!


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